Secrets
by Dancingqueen4Life
Summary: They both have secrets. Some more heartbreaking than others, but regardless of the severity of the secret, they know that they'll hold on to each other's secrets until their dying day. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey look, a new story!**

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When Natasha pushed open the door to the flight deck of the hellicarrier, she was surprised to find her partner sitting down with his feet dangling over the edge.  
She'd only been cleared as an agent a few months ago, but in those few months she learned that Clint was one of the few people who treated her like a human, rather than a robot; and she liked that he was always there for her. She quietly made her way over to him, while still making sure he could hear her.  
"People are looking for you." She said quietly as she sank to the floor next to him. The hellicarrier was currently functioning as a ship, so they could see the city not far in front of them.  
"Looks like they found me." Clint said without turning to look at her.  
"I'm not going to tell them." Natasha said after a moment.  
"Oh?"  
"You must have a good reason for sneaking out of medical." Natasha said logically. "I'll probably end up doing the same eventually."  
Clint nodded beside her, and the pair fell into silence. As they sat together, Natasha couldn't take her mind off what she'd asked him just before they landed for their mission, and while he hadn't answered, his eyes had told her plenty.  
"Clint. About what I asked you..." Natasha started, unsure exactly of what she was going to end up saying.  
"It was my brother." Clint said without emotion in his voice.  
"What?"  
"You asked me who the first person I killed was." Clint shrugged. "It was my brother."  
Natasha closed her mouth, forgetting what she was going to say. After another stretch of silence, she settled on apologizing.  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."  
"Don't worry about it, Natasha. You're my partner, you have a right to know."  
Natasha didn't bother to tell him that just because they were partners didn't mean they had to share everything. He knew.

Just as Natasha thought the conversation was over, Clint spoke again.  
"He left me for dead on the side of the road when I was 14. I'd been beaten to within an inch of my life, and when I begged him to help me, just like he said he always would, he turned and walked away." Clint was staring studiously at his hands in his lap, and he didn't react to Natasha's gasp of surprise. "After I was better, I bounced around a few carnivals before joining the military. I saw him again when I was 17, and he was still with the same group of people. I was on leave, and his carnival came through town. He saw me and tried to apologize. I told him to shove it up his ass, and he decided to tell me that leaving me there was the best decision I'd ever made."  
Clint paused in an effort to clear the lump in his throat, and Natasha reached over and squeezed his hand, still slightly unsure how to comfort people. Clint took a deep breath before he continued.  
"I don't really know what happened, I just snapped. I grabbed the gun I kept on me, since a bow was too obvious, and shot him, right in the chest. He didn't die instantly, so I leaned down, and told him that I'd remember that day as the best day of my life. Then I stood and left, but not before people got a good look at me. I was discharged by the end of the week, and I knew I was heading to prison. So I went to the bridge where my dad had crashed the car that killed he and my mom, and was about to jump when this government guy showed up and offered me a job. He said they didn't care about my past, only that I could be valuable to them. I stood on the bridge, on the verge of jumping off and killing myself for an hour while Coulson tried to convince me that he wasn't going to turn me in, and that I really could have a job here."  
When Clint finished his story, he took a deep breath and turned to face Natasha. "There you have it. That's the story of my first kill."  
Natasha just stared at him in shock. She'd found out that his family was all dead, but she didn't know he'd had a hand in one of their deaths. She opened her mouth to tell her she was sorry, but closed it when she realized she wasn't; his brother had turned his back on Clint, and that wasn't something she could forgive, even with her twisted sense of family.  
"Ok." She replied instead. She heard Clint sigh in relief next to her when she didn't get up and run away, and she was glad she'd made the right choice to try to find him.  
"Ok." Clint replied, barely a whisper.  
Natasha knew he needed to get back inside, at the very least to avoid making his injuries worse if Coulson found him not in medical when he returned, but he looked so peaceful next to her that she couldn't force herself to. Instead, she sat next to him while they watched the sun rise, and when Clint turned to speak to her, she stopped him. She knew he didn't expect her to share her secrets just because of this, but she'd decided that after he told her one, she'd reciprocate.  
But she wasn't telling him about her first kill for at least another year or two. Not until she was sure he wouldn't turn and run.

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**There you have it. This is going to be a series of them just spilling their secrets to each other. Some will be serious, some will be little things that pop into my head. They're probably going to be short chapters, so please don't kill me for that.  
Reviews are wonderful. You should write one. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Clint!" Natasha cried from the living room of their apartment.  
"Tasha?" Clint asked as he walked into the room.  
Natasha was sitting on the couch, and she'd moved into one of the corners, with her legs curled as far into her body as she could get them.  
"Tasha, what's wrong."  
Rather than answering, Natasha pointed to a spot on the other side of the couch, and after a moment of staring, Clint saw what shed as pointing at.  
"Really, Nat? A spider?"  
"Clint, please."  
Clint sighed and came over to where Natasha was sitting. He lifted her into his arms and carried her away from the spider, trying not to laugh when Natasha relaxed as soon as they were in the hallway. When they arrived at the bedroom, Clint set her on the bed before turning away. He reentered the living room and got the spider on a piece of paper before he carried it outside and set it on the ground, watching as it crawled away.  
When he was done, Clint went back into the apartment and walked to the bedroom, where he found Natasha curled up on the bed.  
"Did you take care of it?" Natasha asked in a small voice.  
"I did. The spider won't dare come back 'round these here parts." Clint said with a hint of his midwestern accent.  
"Don't mock me. I just don't like spiders, ok?"  
Clint smiled slightly as he lowered himself to the bed beside Natasha. "Sorry. It's just, can you not see the irony?" Clint asked.  
"That the Black Widow is afraid of spiders? Yes, I'm aware." Natasha said dryly.  
Natasha's tone made Clint look at her, and a thought suddenly occurred to him.  
"Did they find out?" He asked, not having to say who _they_ were.  
"Why do you think they called me the Black Widow?" Natasha replied, confirming Clint's suspicions.  
Clint wrapped his arm around Natasha's shoulders, ignoring how she stiffened for a moment before relaxing into his embrace; nearly a year as partners and she still reacted the same to his touches- not that he could blame her.  
Clint didn't apologize, because what was the use? It had happened, but she wasn't there anymore, so it would never happen again. Natasha had taught him that.  
Instead, they sat in silence a little while longer, until Natasha decided the spider wasn't going to have reentered the apartment, and she talked Clint into watching trashy reality TV with her, something she knew he secretly liked.  
But that was a story for another day.

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**Another chapter done! Hope you guys are liking this, and it doesn't seem too weird. This one isn't as serious, although it does mention some not so lighthearted secrets.  
Reviews are wonderful. You should write one. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Clint." Natasha called as she walked into the apartment. When her partner didn't answer, Natasha was confused. She dropped her mission bag by the door, deciding to unpack later. She wandered through the apartment, listening for any sign of the partner she'd become closer to in the last year and a half than she'd been to anyone else ever.  
Finally, she arrived at Clint's bedroom and carefully opened the door. She found Clint lying on his bed, curled up with the unmistakeable sound of crying coming from where he lay.  
"Clint?" Natasha asked as she hurried to the bed, fearing that he was injured. "What's going on? Do you need to go to medical?"  
"It's not fair, Tasha." Clint whined before a sob cut off whatever else he was going to say.  
"What's not fair, Clint?"  
"She loved him, and he just let her go." Clint wailed.  
Natasha was officially confused, but she decided to push through his jumbled thoughts. "What are you talking about, Clint?" She asked cautiously.  
"Courtney." Clint wailed again. "She loved him, and he let her go. He doesn't even love the other girl!"  
Natasha looked at her partner as though he'd lost his mind, but he didn't say anything else. Natasha sighed and decided to just sit by him until he calmed down enough to talk to her like a grown up. So Natasha settled herself against Clint's headboard and stretched her legs out in front of her. She was just getting comfortable when she noticed that Clint's TV was on. Upon closer inspection, Natasha realized why Clint was trying like a little girl. Natasha huffed another sigh before she shifted her body and landed a kick to Clint's ass, causing him to roll and fall off the bed, where he landed with an oomph and a groan.  
"Tasha." He whined again, a sound that was quickly getting on her nerves.  
They were both about to speak when Clint realized that she'd seen his TV, and his face turned a shade of pink that had Natasha struggling not to find adorable.  
"I can explain." Clint rushed to say as he jumped up and turned off the TV.  
"What's to explain?" Natasha asked. "Everything seems perfectly clear."  
"It's not like that." Clint said uncomfortably.  
"Clint, if you feel like watching trashy reality TV, I'm not going to judge you." Natasha said with a smile.  
"I don't usually watch it..." Clint said quietly.  
"Oh?"  
"It's just, you were gone longer than I thought you would be, and I missed you."  
"So you decided to watch a dating show?"  
"Yes?" Clint asked.  
Natasha shook her head and laughed. "It's a good thing you're such a good partner, or I would make Coulson find me another."  
Clint looked a little relieved. "So you won't tell anyone?"  
"Not if you don't tell them I'm afraid of spiders." Natasha decided after a moment of silence, designed primarily to make Clint uncomfortable again.  
Clint sighed in relief before climbing back on the bed.  
"It was a little pathetic though." Natasha laughed.  
In response, Clint aimed a kick and hit her squarely in the butt, earning him a half-hearted swat to the arm.  
"Shut up." Clint laughed before he reached over and grabbed the remote and turned on something slightly less pathetic for the two of them to watch.  
How less pathetic ended up being HGTV, they're both still unsure of.

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**There's another one! And before any of you get offended, I don't think you're pathetic if you watch shows like the Bachelor or any of those other shows. I just personally don't care for them. HGTV on the other hand, I'm finding to be very entertaining, since I just started watching it about a month or two ago.  
Reviews are wonderful. You should write one. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

They were sitting side by side on the roof one night after a mission had ended; it was a quiet night, as quiet as any night ever was in New York, and the silence was what gave Natasha the courage to open her mouth and say what she'd been trying to find a way to tell him.  
"I was raped when I was 12." She admitted, her voice small.  
Nothing like just putting it out there, right?  
Clint froze when Natasha's words registered. He turned himself to face her and saw that she was looking down at her lap, as if that would make her story easier to tell.  
"Tasha, you don't have to tell me this." Clint said softly. He'd always figured that something had happened to her, but he never really wanted her to tell him, never wanted to know the details.  
"It's ok, Clint. We're partners, right?"  
"But, Tasha, this isn't something small."  
"I just need one other person to know. I've never told anyone else." _I've never trusted anyone else enough._ Remained unsaid.  
Clint just nodded to Natasha, and she took a deep breath before beginning.  
"I was 12. They'd just sent me out on my first solo mission into a big city- the rest had all been in small villages, less risk that way. I'd killed the target exactly as they'd instructed me to, even killed his family. But I took too long getting back- I'd gotten a glimpse of St. Basil's Cathedral, it was the first time I'd ever seen it, aside from black and white photos. When I returned, Ivan met me. He told me the mission had been executed wonderfully. But then he told me that I'd taken too long getting back. I tried to apologize, to tell him why I'd taken so long, but he wouldn't listen."  
Natasha paused and took a shaky breath and Clint reached out to grab her hands in his. Natasha looked up at him gratefully before speaking again.

"One of the trainers came and took me to a room. There was a table and he told me to sit there, and I did, because I didn't want to disappoint Ivan again. When I was on the table, Ivan came in and strapped my arms down, and he went to sit in the corner. I was so stupid still, I felt _safer_ because he was in there. But then the trainer pulled my pants and underwear off, and Ivan didn't stop him. He didn't stop him then, and he didn't stop him when he pulled his own pants down. Ivan didn't do anything other than sit in the corner and watch as I was raped."  
Clint had gone rigid with Natasha's story, as violent emotions swirled through his veins. He knew that Ivan was dead now, but that didn't make him feel better about what had happened to her.  
Natasha let out a choked laugh, a dark sound that Clint never wanted to hear again. "I still called him Papa then. He'd raised me, always made me feel safe. The whole time, I was crying and begging for him to make it stop. But he just sat there and watched. When it was over, they left me there, tied to the bed. I stayed there, waiting for someone to come in and wipe my memories, since that's what the room was usually used for. But after two hours of waiting, I realized that they were going to leave the memories with me, as a reminder not to take the time to look at anything. When I realized that, I managed to get out of the restraints and pull my pants back on and stumble back to my room. I felt so dirty, but I wasn't allowed to shower until the next day. So I climbed into my bed and fell asleep, and tried to keep the images away.  
"I never made that mistake again. But after my next mission, Ivan told me I'd done something else wrong, and I got the same punishment. And he just watched."  
Clint forced himself to speak through the anger in his chest, and the block it created in his throat. "How long, Tasha? How long did they do that to you?"  
Natasha cracked a small smile. "Until I was 16, and started fighting back. It was always for something different though, but it was always my punishment. One day, Ivan was too busy to sit and watch, and I knew that was my chance. So I got my legs around the trainer's neck and snapped it. Then I pulled my pants on, and ran away as fast as I could. I was the first girl to ever get out of the facility, and it wasn't until later that I realized that Ivan had let it happen, that I'd grown too stubborn for them to keep fixing me. So I started doing freelance work, and when I saw the opportunity to kill Ivan, I took it."  
Natasha took a deep breath, and relaxed when she let it out, and Clint knew her story was over. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek and stroke his thumb along her cheekbone while he gave her a soft smile.  
"I'm so sorry that happened to you, Tash." Clint whispered.  
Natasha shook her head. "Don't. I don't want your pity, Clint. I just needed to tell someone."  
"I don't pity you, Natasha. I never could. But I'm still sorry that you had to suffer through that for all those years."  
"It's in the past, Clint. I've made my peace with it."  
Clint just nodded, unable to come up with words for what he was feeling. Instead, he pulled Natasha onto his lap and held her tightly as he ran his hand through her hair. Natasha went willingly, and after a moment, Clint felt her relax in his grasp.  
Together, they sat on the roof as they allowed their secrets to float round them, both the ones they'd shared and the ones they weren't yet ready to let out into the open.  
But it was just a matter of time until they were ready.

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**There you have it. I know this one is darker, but they're assassins, so they have some dark secrets. I'm doing my best to come up with some lighthearted ones to balance out the darkness, but let's face it, it's easier to come up with horrible things in their pasts.  
Reviews are wonderful. You should write one. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Surprisingly, it takes a while before Natasha has to help stitch Clint up, which means it's a while before she sees him shirtless. A while as in a year into their partnership.  
Sure, she's seen him change, caught a glimpse of his chiseled muscles- but she knew they'd be there anyway. But she'd never had the chance to really look. Or appreciate.

And then Prague happened, and Clint's back was too messed up for him to wait for medical, so she sat him down and brought out the first aid kit and got to work cleaning his wounds and stitching them up. When she wiped a bit of blood away, she saw a round scar beneath, one that looked like it had been there for years. She thought nothing of it, but as she kept cleaning the blood, she found more and more of them littering his back. After she'd sewn up the worst of the cuts, she gingerly brought her index finger up to one in the middle of his back and touched it gently.  
As soon as Clint felt her touch the scar, he stiffened and had to convince himself not to flinch away.

"Clint, what are these?" Natasha asked softly as she traced another.  
Clint sighed, a full bodied thing, before he spoke. "My old man liked to smoke. He didn't always have an ash tray with him."  
Natasha froze and quickly withdrew her finger. She'd thought they looked like cigarette burns, but the circles were too big to be from cigarettes.  
As if he could read her mind, Clint quietly responded. "He preferred cigars."  
Natasha nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Clint, I-"  
Clint sighed and interrupted Natasha. "I know, Tasha. It happened, and then he got himself killed."

Natasha didn't have any words left to comfort him, so she gently laid her hand on his shoulder, hoping it would be enough. Clint reached up with his hand and squeezed hers where it rested on his shoulder before he shifted and stood up.  
"Am I good to shower?" He asked quietly, and when Natasha nodded, Clint grabbed some clean clothes and entered the bathroom where he closed the door. When Natasha heard the water start, she forced herself to stand and change her clothes as well, while she tried to fight the images in her mind.  
Seeing those scars on Clint's back, and knowing that his father, someone who should have protected Clint, had put them there made her angry, and she didn't really know why.  
Well, she did. But that was another secret for another time.

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**I know this one is really short, but hopefully it's just as good. Also, there's no real timeline for these, since I write them as they come to me, but it's not too jumpy, is it? And I've had a few people ask me, so I'll just say it here, I don't have them in a relationship yet, but I still ship them so hard. Almost to the point where I have dreams about what other fun things I can make them do.  
Reviews are wonderful. You should write one. :)**


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